The King and Queen of Spades
by The-Hetalian-is-in
Summary: The life and times of Alfred, of House Williams-Jones, the 37th King of Spades, and Arthur, of House Kirkland, the 39th Queen of Spades. This is the story of them, from their marriage, to their Regency, through loss and heartbreak and pain, to betrayals, kidnappings, war and more. This is their life. UkUs, Gerita, Aushun, others to come. Read and Review please
1. The Beginning

The land of Linatania was as fair a land as can be found in the world. Rolling hills, green pastures, sparkling seas, lush forests, clear blue skies, it was a veritable Eden. As fair as goddess, sweet nubile and welcoming. Crowning this fair goddess was her diadem, four sovereign kingdoms, each alike power and importance but vastly different from one another in just about everything else. You may, or may not, know them. They were fairly popular across our world., though not in the way you might think. They derived from what you call card decks, the suits of such anyway. If you look at them, you will see. The Kingdoms were of Clubs, Spades, Hearts and Diamonds, and ruled the land. Four Suits, Four Kingdoms, Four Kings, Four Queens, Four Jacks. I feel obligated to include here, dear reader, that Unlike your world, gender mattered not in comparison to Royal Titles. Men and Women could be Queens, Men and Women could be Kings, and the same goes for the Jacks

All were equals in each citizen's eyes. All lived in relative harmony with their neighbors, and all carved out their own niche in Linatania.

The Kingdom of Clubs laid claim to the majority of the fertile fields of Linatania's plains and pastures. Farmers were treated with utmost respect in this kingdom, and they did their jobs so well that the crops reaped were plenteous and of the highest quality, and were thus highly coveted, especially by the Kingdom of Diamonds who boasted (and rightly) the land's best chefs. They also held the bulk of Linatania's people within their borders, which meant the Club Army was the largest, though not the best trained, was the fond saying of the other Kings and Queens.

The Kingdom of Hearts held the crown jewel of Linatania, the capital city of all four kingdoms, Corona, in its hand. With its white and black marble pillars lining every major road, among which lanterns, chimes and sculpted glass images of every kind hung, to its wide canals of crystal clear water ribboning the cityscape and providing the backdrop for Corona's famed gondolas, to the colorful rows of box-like buildings stacked artfully on top of each other like children's blocks yet more lovely than anything a babe could create, to the lush forest the city built itself around, filled with any manner of flowers, plants and wildlife, with Evergreens in bloom and stately Oak branches snaking through Coronan skylines, Corona was the pride and joy of the Hearts Kingdom. The kingdom thrived on peace and love, and valued both highly, evident in the numerous festivals dedicated to the mysterious force that is love. The most famous, most lavish, Festiva de Amourna, attracted people from around the land and beyond to its luxurious Hall of the Lovers.

The Kingdom of Diamonds sat directly on top of Linatania's Gold, Silver, Coal and Diamond mines, and as such, was the wealthiest kingdom in Linatania, as it made lucrative business with all of Linatania and beyond. Their 'Lucrezia' diamonds could be found in every piece of royal jewelry across Linatania if you looked hard enough. The Kingdom of Diamonds was devoted body and soul to the perusal of cultural enlightenment. Music, Art, Fashion, Architecture, and as a general rule, Beauty were the tenets every Diamond subject lived by. From the numerous fine-dining restaurants, the true crown jewel of Diamond Kingdom was their cuisine, to the famous 'Floating water gardens' and 'Tour de diamants,' to the 'Carina Della Valle,' the largest, multi-level bazaar in three continents, where nearly every fashion trend in the land was born and one could buy any type of clothing in any color, and any fabric, The Kingdom held to the ideals of Epicurean tastes until death, and they could surely afford it. Artisans of every medium, be it food, silk, or marble, set up shop in the gilded city streets. It was the most popular tourist destination in all of Linatania, and they treated their guests so well that seldom did they leave. If that weren't enough, The Kingdom of Diamonds also housed the lands vineyards, which were tended with the utmost love and respect. The sommeliers there were so prized as to be on the level as their chefs, and them both near enough to royalty to make calls on lower nobles if they so choose.. If there was one thing the Diamond people loved more than fashion, architecture or food, it was their Château Blanc.

And lastly, the Kingdom of Spades. This was the oldest Kingdom in the land, an old kingdom with old ways and customs (some of them anyway) still withstanding. People still kissed the statue of the Good Queen Alexandra on the cheek when they walked past her post in every town square, people still tossed the first piece of food or drink during any meal into a pitcher of seawater as thanks to the bountiful ocean that gave them life, the Queen of Spades was still trained from birth to be the Queen, while the King was picked (not quite so) at random on their 18th year. It was an odd system, but the amalgamation of old and new suit the Kingdom and its subjects well. The Kingdom of Spades was located entirely around the Linatanian coast, with a hand wrapped around every port. No other port could be utilized, thanks to the Red Ocean's entirely unpredictable, incredibly volatile weather. The Strait of Calm was the only way ships could do proper business and as such, everything shipped in was under Spade control. They were a kingdom of merchants, captain's, fishermen, and sailors, and traders who took their very livelihoods from the seas, ships, trade and a hefty import and export tax for the three other kingdoms that had no choice but to pay. The Sea was their home, and they were madly keen on defending it. The Spade Navy was the most well-trained Navy in the in the world, a feat they were quite proud of, and they intended to keep it that way. Everybody, nobility or not, unless physical and mental health were too dire an issue, was required to spend at least their thirteenth year on the deck of a ship, or behind the desk of a customs official, in order to access higher-level jobs, or marry.

Yes, these were the Four Kingdoms of Linatania, and if you found them at all intriguing, then this next bit is sure to rivet you.

The Kingdoms relied on normal means for everyday life, it is true, but extraordinary happenings were so carefully interwoven into it that one couldn't tell you the difference even if they wanted to. Magic, dear reader. Magic was the lifeblood pumping through the veins of Linatania. No one knows where the first instance of sorcery happened, no one but the mysterious Jokers that were rumored to haunt the Wicked Woods at the base of the Linatanian flatlands. It is unknown how the people came to know how to use it, much less master it, or who these early practitioners were as all of the spellbooks and manuals had no names or dates, but master it they did, and those sorcerers and sorceresses could be found in every kingdom. But some powers aren't for mere subjects to hold.

The King, Queen and Jack of each Kingdom each held in their hands a very specific kind of magic that was singular to them and them alone. Everyone had a weapon to bring to the table, should relations sour so as to need it.

The King and Queen of Clubs held dominion over Strength, and Luck. The Mark, the symbol, -in their case, a Club- that not only marked one as the true King, Queen, or Jack, also bestowed upon the Club Royalty monstrous strength, and formidable fighting ability, along with sheer dumb luck that saved the Clubs Kingdom many a time. The Queens were usually the fighters, blessed with extensive knowledge of near every form of combat there was to know, and deadly skill of most, if not all, weapons. The Kings wielded monstrous strength in their two hands, to use how they saw fit, and woe be the man set up against either two. The jack, servant and head advisor to the King and queen, had both powers,, to a lesser extent, as befitting the jack's rank in the hierarchy.

The King and Queen of Hearts held domain over power of Love. That is to say, the giving and taking of it. Far too many former Kings and Queens underestimated their power and far too many former King and Queens suffered greatly for it. One may scoff at the mere idea, 'Love? Hah! Hearts, you got the short end of the deal for sure.' They'd say, but the King and Queen would only laugh behind their hands and nod. 'Yes, yes of course we did. Of course.' Those that made mock soon learned the devastating power of love when their spouses ran off with other people, when Princess's fled from politically arranged marriages and the bride or husband-to-be angrily broke off the alliance or truce that would have followed, when Prince's disgraced themselves by emerging from the bed of a wrong Prince or Princess, and the angry parent decided to press for war to preserve their dear one's honor, when a war general became so infatuated with a common milk maid that he can't focus on anything else but her ebony hair and amber eyes, and his battle plans end up feeble and easily broken or even nonexistent, when a common suitor was so madly in love with a Nobleman's daughter that she would do anything, murder included, to be with her. When the damage was done and the offender's came crawling back, why of course the King and Queen will come, swooping in with their heart staffs in hand, soothing over wounds, repairing relationships, and you can be sure no words of derision ever leave the lips of anyone ever again.

The Diamond King and Queen have abandoned their power, it is said by other Royals every once in a while. They are abysmally incorrect, but that isn't their fault. The Diamond royalty have long since used their abundant wealth for nearly every problem laid at their doorstep, so many newly enthroned Royals make the mistake of assuming they have no power. Which is exactly how the Diamond Royals like it. Underestimation is the main cause of death for many new Kings and Queens, and even a few jacks. You see, while their prefered power is their money, their true given magic is Manipulation. The power of suggestion is a powerful thing indeed and incredibly hard to detect, which is why even when their power is used, it's seldom recognized. Most scholars define this power as Charm, because the Diamond Royals have a reputation for being devilishly handsome, or heartbreakingly beautiful, and many people have found themseleve wrapped around bejeweled fingers with little more than a dimpled smile, but that idea merely plays into their true skill. Thought, Physical, and in rare cases, Environmental Manipulation are their magic. Thought manipulation, otherwise call mind control in Linatania, is their prefered method of manipulation, should it come to them actually using their powers. A simple proposal, thought or spoken, or written down, by the Diamond Royalty and placed in the mind of an unsuspecting (or even a fully informed) victim will have them doing Diamond bidding without a second thought, and the fact they won't remember anything about Diamond manipulation is one of the main reasons for the saying that the royalty's lack any sort of power. Physical manipulation was a favorite among all Diamond Royalty. It was said earlier that the Diamond Kingdom was a kingdom focused on beauty above all things, and this was true. Diamond Royal's loved to changed their appearance, different hair color, eye color, proportions especially, every aspect of their appearance. It could easily be used for ill purposes, there could easily be, say, two Spade Nobles, and no one can tell who is who, or a long dead Queen of Clubs can miraculously appear in Club Royal Court. And lastly, environment manipulation, the rarest of all Diamond magic, one about three Diamond Monarchs in the entire history of Linatania possessed. The ability to command winds, water, earth, fire, and even the weather, these were the gifts bestowed upon the Diamond Royalty.

And Last, let me tell you the about the power of the Spades, and then our story shall truly begin. The Kingdom of Spades has a saying, "Time reveals all." And so it goes that the Spade Royalty controlled the elusive aspect of Time. Not only that, but even though it wasn't an inherited power the mantle of Queen of Spades since the dawn of Spades kingdom has come with the crest of Morgana, the symbol of highest level Witch or Wizard. Every Queen is respected in the magical community as a Sorcerer of the greatest caliber, and they are all sought as teachers when their reign ends up short. Time was hailed by many to be the hardest of all Magic to master, and with good reason. To pause, rewind or forward time required a steady hand, head, and heart to execute without horrible consequences. Some Kings and Queens could not control their power and it is only by the quick thinking of Former Royalty that the very lives of every Linatanian were spared. Changing events in time can easily turn sour if done incorrectly. In addition, some Spade Royals may also employ their powers without changing fate, by looking into the future of what or who ever their subject may be, though this talent is rarer.

And that dear readers, is all you must know so that our story may truly begin. It is my dearest hope that you enjoy it.

* * *

In the kingdom of Spades, it was early morning, the sun just beginning to peek over the tops of the Capital of Spades Kingdom, Taran. On the long winding road from the Spade seaside to the city square, carts of ceremonial wine, a present from Diamond Kingdom, were being driven to the Castle of Spades, for the coronation of the 37th King and 39th Queen of Spades was to begin at noon. The town was abuzz with gossip, "A new King!," A fishmonger called from her doorway, across the cobblestone streets to her friend, a handmaid of Lady Ava, a Spade noblewomen. "A what? A new king?"  
"Oh yes. It's so strange and marvelous, have you not heard?"  
"Heard? Heard what? I thought there was already an unofficial heir apparent."  
"There was, there was! But with that whole fiasco with Sir Laurence, well, the boy turned eighteen three nights ago, you see, and the Mark wasn't anywhere on him!"  
"You're playing tricks on me!"  
"I'm doing no such thing! My girl Dina, you know Dina, she has her eye on your Rebecca you know, Dina is, was, the scullery maid in that Williams-Jones house, she was in the room when the boy was stripped and searched. Oh, if I could only remember his name. Michael, no, Marius, Max, oh I don't know. It'll come to me, surely. Anyway, the Mark was nowhere to be seen on that boy's body and the brother, he starts up all pale and starts inching towards the door." The Fishmonger leaned forward, looked up and down the empty street and beckoned to her friend. She hurried over, woolen skirts in hand. "What?! What happened then, you vile creature! You know I can't stand it when you stop like that!" The Maid scolded her friend warmly, let herself be pulled inside and set down in a chair near the fire burning away in the hearth. The Fishmonger bustled around her hearth, dipping ladles into cauldrons, flitting over to her stove and cabinets near the fire for a pinch of this and that, and soon there was a piping hot cup of spearmint tea in both their hands. The fishmonger plopped herself down in the adjacent chair and turned towards her friend, a sly grin on her face. She said nothing for a time, watched her friend get more agitated, all the while with that smile.

The handmaid poked her friend in the arm. "HURRY UP, MARY!"  
"OK, OK. Fine, ruin the suspense why don't you, Janice, you killjoy. Like I said, the brother, to the boy whom we all thought would be king, He goes whiter than clean linens he does, and makes for the door all slow, creeps right past my Dina, and the boys were born early, early morning, so they're all up about two or so for the birthday, even though they're twin brothers, no one suspected what'd happen, not even a little. So, its real early, none but the maids have any proper clothing on. My Dina see's the Mark of Spades right on that boy, he's wearing some silk shirt all thin and sheer and some briefs, and My Dina spots it!" Mary said proudly. Janice gasped dramatically. "No!"  
"Yes, Jan yes! We've started calling that one Kingspotter, and she'll blush to her roots if she hears you."  
"Where was it, the Mark?"  
Mary's grin turned a bit lecherous. "Right above his left arse cheek. Very fine cheek, if what Dina says be true."  
"Mary Gemma Parker, That boy is half your age and then some!"  
"I never said I was going to do anything! Geez, Jan, get your mind out of the gutter. So anyways, Dina gasps out loud, she does, that calls the attention of the Boy and the Father and Mother, and they corner him, all "What have you got there, boy?" He blushes red as a maid, reluctant though I can't imagine why, tries to dodge the question, but eventually he shows them and Lord, Jan to hear Dina tell it the parents near brought down the neighborhood with their celebrations. Dina says the father cut a caper! Imagine Lord Whatsits doing a little jig, nearly snorted tea up my nose when I heard. So Dina got rewarded for pointing that Mark out. My little girl's gonna handmaid to the bloody king come tomorrow!"

Janice leaned back, mulling this new information over. "So the slated son ends up being passed over. Oh that poor boy, I know how that feels. I wonder why this whole thing happened. I've never heard of the Mark switching family members."

"Well Jan, the Mark only appears when you turn Eighteen right? It wasn't on either boy until then, so it was up in the air either way, yet we were all casting our cards in for the wrong brother. They were training the older one up for this too. But after that bad business with Sir Laurence..."

"Mary, I swear that's all I've heard for weeks on end and no one will elaborate, you'll tell me what all the fuss is about, won't you?"

"Of course dear! Well, you know Sir Laurence, always goes on and on about those fancy carriages of his, and the boy...Matthew! Matthew, that's the boys name! Ah thank the gods, that would have given me no peace, right, so Matthew is invited on a carriage ride with him some weeks ago hence, His lordship probably trying to curry favor with the 'King', and the brother tags along, I believe he was supposed to be the Captain of the Royal Guard when Matthew ascended so it only makes sense he'd followed his brother, but since Matthew won't ascended now, I wonder what he'll do. Like I said, The brother accompanied his Lordship and Matthew and they set to go to a little resort town right on the edge of Spade Kingdom, Glamis, the name was. They set out early morning about five weeks ago, and everything goes just grand until they reach the Alexandra Bridge. You know what it was? Bandits."

"Bandits? In Spade Country?"

"I was shocked as well when Alice told me. Yes. Bandits. Clubs, probably, those sly bastards. There were three of them. Well, the carriage gets about halfway across the bridge and the bandits swarm it, kill the horses, pull the boys and Sir Laurence out. Alfred, that's the new king-to-be, can't believe I didn't remember that name till now. Alfred, they drag him out kicking and screaming, always a fiery one that lad, and the bandits make a giant show of threatening them, Sit Laurence first, and then Matthew. You've had to have seen the boys before Jan. Alfred and Matthew, nice enough lads, Matthew especially. Matthew is a sweet one, Alfred's a sight too cocksure for his own good, but those boys have good hearts. Alfred, he's got that hero complex you know, and all that but when it boils down to it, he's damn protective of that twin of his. You'd think think Alfred was at least a few years older than Matthew from the way he protects that boy, but no, identical. Anyway, Matthew's life is threatened and, Sir Laurence recanted the whole thing to his household so I'll take Alice at her word, Sir Laurence says. 'It was like a demon possessed the boy.' He rears up against the bastard holding his arms behind his back, damn near caves his skull in, grabs one of the weapons at the bandits waist, a sword or something like it, slits the throat of the one nearest him, turns and the last bandit's got his lordship and Matthew by the throats, tosses them over the side of the bridge, and you know Cali's river is a tempestuous bitch. Alfred jumps in after them, fishes them both out of the water, not a moment too soon because his lordship couldn't swim a lick. The boy's been hailed as a hero, and he'll puff like a rooster sure as rain. But his Lordship doesn't like being reminded of how cowardly he acted, paid a fair bit of coin to have it all hush hush, so I suppose you mightn't have heard. I suppose Alfred's bravery prompted the Gods to shed their blessing on him instead."  
Janice nodded. "I think you're right. Oh, look at the time! I'll be late if I don't start out, Lady Ava's got to be dressed for the coronation ceremony. I've been swimming in silk and samite since Monday."  
"Take your tea with you, I've cups aplenty."  
Janice stood and pushed the chair underneath the table. "Bless you, dear." And she left, walking down Carter Street to her lady's chateau, CarRaine. If she looked up, she could just see the tallest towers of the castle of Spades perched on the Hill of Kings. The spires atop the towers were orange with sunlight. The blue flags of Spades Kingdom fluttered in the breeze. 'Today will be interesting.' She thought.

* * *

In the Tower of the King-To-Be, the very same Janice casted a fleeting glance at, two boys, one leaving against the cold stone interior, the other pacing around the room, waited for noon.

"Gods, I can't do this." Matthew, the boy that was almost king, looked up. His boots were far less interesting than the sight before him. Across the room, knees deep in a pile of garments from the old, faded blue, wood garderobe, stood the new King of Spades. He checked the gilded mirror every few seconds, wringing his hands together, and he apparently did not like what he saw there. Matthew couldn't find it in him to feel any animosity towards his twin when he was the one to be crowned king now, not when Matthew couldn't remember ever seeing his younger brother by two minutes so nervous.

"You have to, Al." If there was one thing Alfred hated, it was being lied to, so he didn't even try to sugarcoat the truth..

Alfred shot a baleful glance at his twin and ran a hand through his hair. He'd been doing that a lot since yesterday, and within the last hour more and more strands of gold have gotten caught between his fingers, and in hindsight, he really should have slept as well, but it was way too late for that now. He'd never be able to sleep anyway, even if he could. His heart was beating so fast and loud that it'd awake the dead. This was so wrong, so unfair, he wasn't at all cut out to be royalty, much less a King! So why the hell was the Mark on him and not his brother?!

"This is madness. I'm not the true King, you are!" Alfred pointed out, almost accusingly. Matthew shrugged, pushed off the wall and walked over to the musty four-poster canopy bed opposite the garderobe and the mirror. He sat down with a billow of dust.

"Not according to that." He pointed to the Mark peeking just above Alfred's pants. Alfred twisted his head to look at it. The blue Spade symbol, with its white outline and ornately scripted K, and the crown surrounding the whole thing, looked particularly ugly right now.

"You-you should have it, not me. This doesn't even make any sense, everyone knew you'd be King. Even I knew that!" As the hysterical edge to his voice became more and more apparent, Alfred bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, wheezing was about the best he could do at that moment. That was most likely not great. The room was also far too stuffy, or maybe that was just him, but he was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to be spinning like it was. Or was it? He didn't know, which certainly didn't make him feel any better. Alfred felt a hand on his back. "Alfred, Calm down."

"S-shut up." He muttered, staring his hands that somehow managed to keep trembling braced as they were against his thighs. He tried to get his erratic breathing under check before he ended up passing out. Calm down? How the hell was he supposed to do that? He was about three hours from being crowned. That was a huge deal, with so many things that could go wrong, and with so many lives in his hands. He was about to be in charge of about 5.2 million lives, and they'd all depend on him for safety, law+making, amongst other things. That was terrifying. He wasn't trained for this, Matthew was! He was trained to fight, protect one person, maybe two, not rule. That was never a possibility, not when all signs for the new king, when King Chelsea -beloved as she was- died and Queen Richard abdicated his throne, pointed to Matthew. Alfred was never jealous, he was happy, proud that Matthew was going to be his new King. He was even happier to find that he'd be Matthew's Captain of the Guard. He sore that he'd protect Matthew from every danger ever, but now? This was so far out of his realm of expertise that Alfred felt like he was drowning, and there was nothing he could grab onto to help keep him afloat.

"You'll be a great king, Alfred. I know you will. You've always had it in you." Matthew said soothingly. "Besides, I'll be here to help you every step of the way." He watched very carefully for his twin's reaction. Alfred froze for all of three seconds, and straightened up, distress forgotten. "You...Aw, Matt, please tell me you're not…"

"We made a promise, Alfred, right?" An old promise, back then they were mere children.

"Back when we both knew you'd be king!"

"Well, as it stands we were both wrong. You're the king now, and I'm your new Captain of the Guard." Matthew folded his arms across his chest and glared defiantly at his twin, who responded with a truly pitiful look. Then Matthew looked away. He couldn't bear to stare into those watery blue eyes. They were weakening his resolve by the second. "I don't know why you're so set against me doing this."

"Because this Kingdom runs through captains like Diamond Kingdom runs through wine, Matt! There's a horribly high likelihood that I will be presiding over your funeral if you do this!"

Matthew had lived under his brother's (over)protectiveness for about eighteen years but never had it been so apparent until this moment. "Alfred..."

"Don't 'Alfred' me Matthew! You know as well as I do that this is a damn dangerous job you're asking for!"

"So it was all OK when you were going to be it?"

"I'VE BEEN, WAS TRAINING FOR THAT MY ENTIRE LIFE, MATT."

Matthew crossed his arms, "Well let's hope it wasn't a complete waste then."

They said nothing for a few more minutes.

Alfred turned back to the mirror, hands balled at his sides. He looked at himself and his twin's reflection, one in the plain cotton shirt and tweed, the other in silks. "We did make a promise. All I'm asking is that you change your mind."

Matthew watched his twin in the mirrors reflection. "Your safety is important to me too, my King."

Alfred flinched, covered it up by crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't. Don't you dare call me that, It's not noon yet. Besides, We're brothers first. You'll call me what you've been calling me for the last eighteen years."

"An insufferably smothering pompous idiot?"

Nothing happened at first, and Matthew was beginning to think that joke was a bit too cruel, especially now, but eventually Alfred started snickering. "I like it better than 'My King.' It sounds so formal, and frigid."

"I think that's the point."

"Uh-huh." Alfred bent down and picked up a plain white shirt and pulled it on, and finally he crossed over the mannequin and pulled on the customary Blue Vest, embroidered with the symbol of Spades near the seams. Matthew didn't miss the way his twin's fingers trembled as he buttoned the vest up. The last remaining pieces of the royal outfit, the Jacket and the Timepiece, would be given to him at his coronation.

Alfred was struck with a sense of dissociation and more than a little wonder when he turned to the mirror again. It didn't look like him, the tall, broad-shouldered blonde, with the glasses and the flyaway hair, in the wools and satins.

"How do I look?" The stranger asked out loud.

Matthew studied his twins back, choosing his words carefully. "Regal."

* * *

In the Tower of the Queen-To-Be on the opposite side of the Castle of Spades, the Queen-to-be sat in the unlit room he'd been living in since he was two. Today was the day, the one he was trained his entire life for, his marriage and coronation. The thought made him smile around the rim of the teacup he held to his lips. "I will be queen in less than two hours time," He said to the dark and empty room. The canopy bed, hung with heavy blue brocade, offered no reply, nor did the desk and the quill and parchment on it. The gilded mirror on the far corner of the room, his room, and the wardrobe were equally silent. The spellbooks lining his bookshelf said as much as they ever did. His room. In two hours, it wouldn't be his anymore, in two hours he'd be bedding down with his mystery king for the rest of His life, or reign as it might happen. This room would go to the next Queen when He was no longer fit to rule, or it would go to the girl children he and his 'King' would have, if his 'King' turned out to be a woman. It mattered not what gender they were, or what they looked like, or how they acted to him, all the Queen required of his future spouse was that they'd be a good ruler, or at least not get in the way of his rule. No matter what, He would be a successful Queen.

He rubbed absently at his Mark, the blue Spade circumscribed inside a Q and set inside a crown, underneath the fabric of his Queen's vest. He always liked the fact that it was on his shoulder. It was easily seen, and thus not easily ignored. 'I am Queen, and You'd do good to remember that.' He liked to imagine it said. Ever since it appeared, faintly, on his shoulder at the tender age of four -much to the relief or his parents for they dreaded to think all the training up they did would be wasted on yet another child, and the jealousy of his elder brothers- He'd been elated. He was slated for royalty, for huge and brilliant things.

A series of faint knocks, thrice against the thick oak door, sounded. The Queen-to-be set down his teacup. "Enter." The accent of Berkshire, the land from which his family originated, made the word sound like "En-tah."

The door swung open, and the familiar face of the Jack-to-be came into view. His brown, Oriental, eyes darted around the room, missing nothing, as they always did. "My Queen-"

"Peace, Yao. I am not queen yet."

"Nor I Jack, your grace. That hasn't stopped either of us before today. "

The Queen-to-be smiled again, revealed pearly white teeth and a fierce look in his green eyes that made the queen seem rather feral. "I suppose you're right. What is it that you require of me?"

"The other Royals have come to witness the coronation and pay their respects." He said, eyes cast down. He knew very well of his Queen's distaste for most of the Linatanian Royalty. He'd grown up with these people, since every other kingdom's King and Queen were picked very young, like the Queen of Spades, and crowned ten years after their Marks appeared, which meant they were all anointed Royalty and He'd have to show them that respect. The only one who wouldn't know any of them would be the King-to-be, and he'd be introduced to his fellow Royals soon enough.

The King of Clubs, one Ivan Braginski, was a nice enough chap on the surface, but bloody insane underneath. The Queen, Elizaveta Héderváry, a mite too strong-willed for Arthur's tastes. The King of Hearts name was Ludwig, and he was a veritable stone in pink satin, and his Queen, his Majesty Kiku a tad too quiet for much besides the occasional tea. The Queen of Diamonds, the Reinette Lilli, couldn't be hated even if she wanted it, as sweet and gentle as possibly could be she was, but she was barely 13, and always under the incredibly watchful eye of her elder brother, the Jack of Diamonds, so Arthur didn't fancy his chances early on of getting close to her, and her husband... If such a title can be bestowed. Every King and Queen had, however unwillingly, consummated their relationship, except for the Diamond Royals. It was decided by a court of the other Royals themselves, the highest-ranking Linatanian nobles, and especially the future Jack of Diamonds that the consummation would wait until her 18th birthday, at least. Her husband had no trouble slaking his lust while he waited for her, it would seem.

The King of Diamonds had a special place in the Queen of Spade's heart, one of intense dislike leaning towards downright hatred on bad days, and amiable companionship on good days. Francis Bonnefoy, crowned and anointed King of Diamonds, was singly the most annoying, perverted, obtuse, aggravating, boneheaded, lustful, disagreeable, flamboyant jackass The Queen ever had the displeasure of knowing, and He had to keep knowing him, because Spades Kingdom and Diamond Kingdom had a fairly nice alliance with each other and the Queen-to-be was forced to visit the King-to-be many a time under the guise of keeping up friendly relations.

"Brilliant. Where are they?" He had a feeling he knew where at least one of them was.

Yao shifted from one slippered foot to the other, almost imperceptibly. "The King and Queen of both Hearts and Clubs are currently residing in the Royal Visiting Room, I have seen that they are refreshed from their journey and are lacking nothing. The Queen of Diamonds is in the garden with her Guardian, the Jack."  
"And the King of Diamonds?" The Queen-to-be almost couldn't help the way his tone curled up at the end. He knew it. Yao managed a sheepish look, and gestured behind him. "That King demanded I take him to you, and as you know, Your Grace, I could not refuse." The Queen believed he knew why as well, the ever-so faint glow of well-executed magic still clung around the Jack-to-be's head.

Dammit all. And here he'd been having a very pleasant time alone, before he was to be wedded, crowned and bedded.

A mop of artfully tousled blonde hair, attached to an admittedly attractive face, with its aquiline nose, deep blue eyes, and laughing mouth, popped in the doorway. The King smiled like the lecher the Queen knew he was.

"Well, Mon Ami, Don't you look charming. I can't believe my little Arthur is to be on the same, or close to it, level of magnificence as me in just and hour and a half."

Arthur Cornelius Kirkland, Queen-to-be of the illustrious Spade kingdom, was a man that had been told from a very early age that appearances were everything. So, from a very early age, he strived to remain, outwardly at least, calm and collected and poised, like a gentleman, and then here came this bastard diamond King who undid all his hard work with a mere sentence of two. Arthur took a second to civilize his tongue and remember his courtesies, and stood up, sweeping a low bow to this person who would only outrank him for just a little while longer.

"I thank you for the sentiments, my Lord." Now would you kindly go stick that pathetic patch of stubble you call a beard elsewhere? Arthur came back up, expecting that damnable smile to still be there, mocking him, but the look on His Majesty's face was surprisingly sentimental.

Francis turned to the Jack "Monsieur Wang, some wine, if you please." The Jack looked at his Queen-to-be, who nodded his assent, and disappeared down the hallway to the cellar. Now, Arthur and Francis were alone. Francis walked into the room, looking around with a fond expression. "I remember the day we first met, mon ami."

Arthur sensed that Francis was getting into one of his nostalgic moods, and sat back down, motioning for him to do the same in the chair on the other side of the tea table. "Considering your damned meddling in my head had me set numerous things ablaze, I remember as well, very vividly."

Francis laughed. "That was the pinnacle of amusement, your eyes were as large as dinner plates the moment Monsieur Kirkland's tapestries lit up."

Arthur didn't try disguising his scowl. "It might have been funny to you, but Daddy Dearest lit onto me for that. When I told him it wasn't my fault, he said I shouldn't have a let a Diamond into my head in the first place. However, I heard that your father's entire wine cellar caught fire not a second after the moment you and your father left Kirkland manor." Arthur's smirk brought one out of Francis's.

"He was so upset, you could see the steam coming from his ears. I've never heard such creative words come out of his mouth."

"Hm."

Yao came back with a tray bearing two thin-stemmed wine flutes and a bottle on it. "Ah, thank you, Yao. Set them here please." Arthur gestured to the tea table. Yao left with a bow. And the Queen-to-be of Spades and the King of Diamonds were alone again. Conversation ceased as they sipped champagne in the darkness of the Queen's chambers.

"It isn't easy to rule, Arthur." Francis murmured. "Not at all, as I've come to know. I am only nineteen, I've been King in name since my thirteenth birthday, with my father as regnant, and a true ruler for a year, and it is very, very difficult. Mon Chere Reinette Lilli helps as best she can, and she does, yet she is still a child, and her viper of a brother is less than helpful in matters that don't involve the well-being of his souer."

Arthur took a sip of the fruity champagne before he spoke, searching for a response. "Why are you telling me this, Francis?"

"Because," Francis stood up, walked in front of Arthur's chair, and leaned forward and gripped either side of the chairs back, bracketing Arthur in between his arms. "Despite whatever you think of me, I do not want to see Spade's monarchs dragged out of this lovely castle to their respective nooses. I've seen mon pere come uncomfortably close to that end once myself."

Arthur pushed his arms away, gently. "Then it's a good thing I don't intend to have that happen to either of us." Francis stood up, straightening his yellow Diamond Jacket, but the somber mood still permeated the air, and his eyes were trained grimly on the floor.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, really I do. Trust me, then, when I say we'll both be fine, now and until the end." Arthur stood as well, patted his friend on the shoulder, and then, the flippant man he knew since childhood was back, smiling that infuriating smile of his. "Bon, now, about this new 'King' of yours..."

Arthur smirked, secretly relieved that the conversation wouldn't be so damnably dreary now. "And here I was thinking you'd actually be serious for once. I don't know a thing about them, Francis. You should know already that the King is picked randomly on their eighteenth. All I know is that they arrived early yesterday at the castle. Its all the maids have been talking about."

"You haven't bribed a kitchen wench into divulging details about your fiancé? Mon dieu, you're so...I don't know what you are but it isn't good. Let's go find out who they are!"

"No! I'll find out in an hour, you git. Some of us actually pay attention to tradition."

"Tradition is so boring, what if he's old, or rude, or, gods forbid, impotent!"

Arthur sat down again, reaching for the bottle and pouring himself a fresh glass of champagne. "Is sex really all you think about? ... ...And how do you know it's a man, it could be a woman, Like I said, I don't know."

"Oh, mon dieu, how little you know Arthur. Sex, good sex, is one of the most important, wondrous things that can happen to you, Mon Cher. There is nothing worse than crawling into the bed of a god and discovering he can't perform."

"That's all very interesting, Francis, truly I'm bloody riveted please tell me more when you get the chance and maybe I'll be able to snatch a bit of sleep before my coronation, but how do you know the King is a man?"

Francis said nothing for the longest time, but he did sidle towards the door in a manner that would have been subtle if Arthur hadn't known this man nearly his entire life. "I think my wine arrived a while ago, I'd better check to see if something unsavory happened to it." He beat a hasty retreat out the door. Arthur followed him as far as the doorway, "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, GET BACK..." By then, the King of Diamonds was too far away to hear Arthur's demands, and knowing Francis, when he didn't want to do something, neither hell or high water would convince him to do that something. Arthur closed the door lest he be heard yelling after the king like some sort of hooligan. "What on earth did he mean by all of that? Custom dictates that the King-to-be remains in his chambers until we wed, and no-one but the maids, and only one or two, and the head of the high council even see him before the ceremony, who'd that wine-soaked moron bribe to know so much about my Spouse?" He muttered quietly, pressing his slender fingers against his chin.

Arthur didn't sit down at this tea table, the tray of wine, and the tea he'd been enjoying before interruption completely forgotten. Instead, he crossed to his bookshelf, fingering an old leather-bound tome that went back a particularly long time. "A man, huh?"

He may not like Francis all the time, but he knew him at least, very well, and if there was one thing Francis didn't do, it was lie. So, despite what little he knew about His new King, this new spouse was a man.

Arthur pulled the spellbook off of the bookshelf, the smell of old paper, burned incense and faded magic reassuring in its familiarity. This book was as old as he was, as dear as a friend. But he wouldn't use it now, Tradition was Tradition, and it would be respected.

Despite himself, and his earlier declaration that he didn't care a whit about his fiancé, now he was curious. Was he short, or tall? Broad or skinny, old or young, kind or cruel...handsome or homely? What was his name, where did he come from, what was he planning to now that they were to be King and Queen of Spades?

And perhaps the quietest, yet loudest question of all,_ Will I like him?_

Surely it helped when Monarchs were fond of each other, yet a word like 'Love' and 'Spade Royalty' had been polar opposites for decades.

"My Queen?" Came a voice from behind him. Arthur didn't need to turn around to know who it was, but he did so regardless. Yao was dressed in the blue hat, mantle, overcoat, and dress of a Jack of Spades. "It is time. I am to escort you to the Coronation room."

Arthur set the book on his desk. "Alright."

_Here we go._

Arthur left his old room as the Queen-to-be, and he would only enter again, and the true anointed Queen. The thought was terrifying, and exhilarating. He fairly bounced as he followed Yao down the hallway, and the stairs, and the main hall. _"Its time, its here!"_

_"I am the Queen!"_


	2. The King and Queen

The King-to-be of Spades, led by the Chancellor of the Spades Kingdom high court, one Romulus Vargas, walked across the main hall of the Castle of Spades, with the future Captain of the Guard at his side. What a figure they cut, the maids would say for days turned into weeks later on. The tall, very handsome, new King of Spades, with his vibrant blue eyes, and his golden hair, those endearingly nervous, yet lovely, dimpled smiles he shot at a few of the scullery maids scurrying around making sure everything was ready for the coronation, that marvelous jawline, those broad shoulders, long legs, elegant hands.

The fairer, quieter copy of him, with violet eyes instead of blue, and wheat-colored hair instead of gold, garnered equal attention. The true question on every maids lip, however, was how this new King would get along with their Queen. While they were thus occupied with gossip, they failed to notice the pallid tone to the king's skin, or the way he clenched his jaw so hard one could see the muscles working in his mouth as his teeth grinded together, or how tightly balled his fists were, pressed against his thighs as they were.

The new Kings twin pressed his hand against his brother's shoulder, but the gesture didn't see half so comforting as it should have been.

Other topics of gossip included the return of the Chancellor to high court. Romulus Vargas hadn't been seen outside his spacious seaside villa in years, not since his two grandsons were packed off to Heart Kingdom, one with the Mark of a Jack on his neck -right below his ear- and the other as the right-hand of that Jack.. 'He's still so handsome!" The maids would say, admiring his warrior stature, his gray-free chocolate curls, his olive skin, and eyes, the easy charm he poured on the new King and Captain.

Romulus strode across the tiled floor of the main hall with all the commanding aura he once had, directing the young monarch to the waiting room where he'd spend the last few minutes as Alfred F. Jones, and emerge Alfred F. Jones, King of Spades. He reached the King's door, opened it with a flourish, and ushered the boys inside. "Your majesty, the Kingmaker will see to you in ten minutes time. He will escort you to your place at the Altar, and will lead the crowning ceremony. The Queen will be receiving the same treatment from the Queenmaker. If you have any questions, or requests, you need only ask. I shall see you at the the royal council meeting a week from today. I, and all of Spades, wish you the best of luck."

Alfred said nothing as the door closed behind him. He stood near the door, staring at his shoes, focusing on his breathing. Matthew looked around. It was a small room, less than half the size of the King-to-be's chamber, and the only furnishings were a table, chair, and a coat rack. The walls, however, were filled from end to end with portraits of Spade Kings. From the first, the Wild King Jasper, to King Jessica, to Clarence, William I-V, Alex, Alexis, Alexandria, Julia, Damian, Adrian, Ana, Felicia, to Gerald, all were immortalized in a painting, hung on the wall for all to see.

"Oh my gods." Alfred paced across the room to the chair and plopped into it, covering his face with his hands. "THEY'RE LOOKING AT ME."

Matthew tried not to laugh, really he did, but something about his normally calm, well...Alfred had always been hyperactive, but his energy was always positive, and now he was a nervous wreck, and it was kinda funny. He smothered a chuckle behind his hand, in vain. Alfred shot up, overturning the chair. "IT'S NOT FUNNY!" The look on Alfred's face proved that to be true. He was white-lipped, with a slightly wild look in his eyes. Matthew was sorry instantly.

"Alfred-"

"-I'M FREAKING THE HELL OUT RIGHT NOW!"

"Would you believe me if I said I could tell?" Was Matthew's rebuttal. Alfred scowled, turned away, stalked forward, and turned back. Some semblance of calm had been restored to him. Some.

"You think I'm overreacting." Alfred didn't pose it as a question, but Matthew decided to answer it as such. "I think you need to calm down, else you're likely to collapse at the altar, and who knows how that will go over."

Matthew had hoped that comment would have taken the quicksilver out of his twin's expression and demeanor, but if anything it only made it worse. Alfred sat down again, regarding Matthew with narrowed, near black-blue eyes. "Alright, smartass, fine. I'll calm down. Answer me a few questions first. You know that feeling I tend to get a lot when you're hurt or upset?"

"I don't think overprotection itself is an emotion, per se, but yeah?"

"Next question, How many people live in Spades Kingdom, right now, according to the census. Dad brought that home right?"

"I studied it, if that's what you're asking. I believe its about 5 million."

"5 million."

"Yes."

"5 million." The King says again. Matthew, being the only person who knows his twin as much as he does, recognizes the signs of anger, mixed with a bit of desperation, in the clenched jaw, near inaudible tone, and the repetition, in his brother.

"Yes. Where are you going with th-"

"Now imagine, if you can, that feeling of...dread, helplessness, responsibility multiplied BY 5 MILLION AND YOU'LL HAVE A FAIR IDEA OF HOW I'M FEELING RIGHT NOW!" Alfred pauses, and his gaze goes back to his feet, "and you want me to calm down." He mutters, almost sullenly.

Matthew had nothing to say to that, and it didn't look like him saying anything would go over well regardless, so he kept his mouth shut. He leaned against the wall, right next to the portrait of Spade's last King, Chelsea Montgomery, and thought. It was his best quality his brain, his ability to think through problems, motives. But this problem, Alfred's seemingly irrational and also kind of premature fear of the crown that awaited him, the answer wasn't a hard one. Matthew been bred for that, to rule, and Alfred had been bred to fight, so it seemed like such a natural thing to Matthew. Now, Matthew held the sword, and Alfred had the scepter and it wasn't a hard stretch at all to imagine why he'd be reacting like he was. Matthew clenched his fists at his side. Alfred was supposed to protect him, that's what they'd been told ever since they were little_. 'Matthew will need you, Alfred, to protect him and his_.' Is what their mother said the day Queen Richard abdicated the throne. Alfred was more than happy to have that job, and he took it so seriously that all the time people talked about how Matthew's reign would be long and prosperous because Alfred would see to it that not so much as a cold crossed Matthew's path. Now Matthew would have to uphold the same. He didn't know how to fight, not like Alfred did. Oh, of course he sparred with his brother every once in a while but Alfred wielded a sword, or a bow, or a rifle like it was a part of him, Matthew wielded weapons like a new soldier fresh in training. He was utterly unprepared to protect his twin as he was, and now that he had the time and the great need to practice, that meant that there always could be something harmful in Alfred's path until Matthew stepped his game up. He was forced to play catch up, and quickly, **and** well, or else _he'd_ be the one presiding over Alfred's funeral.

Now Matthew had a fair idea of how Alfred was feeling.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. Alfred jumped up, but Matthew got to the door first. Behind it was a short man, an obvious native of the Orient, for he had the light brown skin, almond-shaped eyes, and grace of such. He dressed in the colors of Spade, a hat set at jaunty angle on his black hair.

He straighten up when Matthew came into view, and bowed, his dark blue dress brushing the ground. "Forgive me, my King."

It took several seconds for Matthew to realize that this man wasn't referring to him, not intentionally anyway. He stepped away from the door to find Alfred at his side, looking markedly less come-apart-at-the-seams. Alfred jerked his thumb at his chest. "I am...I will be the king, sir."

The man in the hat took this information in stride. "My apologies, and what may I address you as, sir." He put to Matthew, with a deferential wave. "I am to be the Captain of the Guard."

"The Ace."

"The what?"

"The proper title is Ace. You are to be the Ace of Spades then, pleasure to meet you. I am to be the Jack." The 'Jack' turned back to Alfred. "My liege, I am Wang Yao, and I shall be the Jack of Spades when you ascend. I am the chief advisor to both you and your Queen, your secretary, your planner, your go-between if need be. It is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Alfred looked a bit dumbfounded, but he stuck his hand out for the Jack to shake, "It is mine as well. Uh, Romulus, Sir Vargas, he said the kingmaker would be in soon, is that you?"

Yao smirked. "No sire. It is not, thankfully. I help kings, your majesty, I don't make them. She will be in shortly." and with that, he bowed and left, walking briskly towards the throne room. Matthew shut the door behind him. "I like that one."

"I do too."

They sat in silence for another five minutes. "You really think I can do this?" Alfred asked. He wouldn't meet Matthew's eyes from his position on the floor, the chair apparently not worth the effort. It seemed that his shoes were the most interesting thing in the world at that moment. He never did like admitting when he was scared. "Alfred, you had the makings of a great king when we were children, and nothing has changed, so y-"

There was no knock this time, the door was pushed open, cutting Matthew off, and the Kingmaker stepped in.

Alfred had expected more somehow. A huge, strapping woman, with muscles the size of wagon wheels, or something equally ridiculous. What he got was a tiny violet-eyed girl with back-length hair the color of silver, who barely came up to his chest. She didn't wear the traditional blue colors of spades but instead wore a black and white dress that made her look slightly monotonous, if you didn't look down, that is. The sole splash of color on the dress, the red sash around her tiny waist drew the eye to it.. She walked in with a haughty set to her head, her self-pride evident in every motion she made, and the barest hint of a sneer on her thin lips. She took one look at Alfred, who hadn't moved from his position on the floor, and the hint of a sneer morphed into a full blown one. "Kings do not lounge on the floor." She said, her voice tinged with an odd accent.

"You're from Clubs Kingdom. The upper, colder, regions." Matthew remarked suddenly. The Upper regions of Club Kingdom, Rossiya and Slavania produced some of the oddest, yet most charming people in Linatania. He couldn't hide his surprise in any case. Club Kingdom and Spades Kingdom have never gotten along well in their long history together, and a majority of Club citizens held a marked disdain for their Spade neighbors (the feeling was quite mutual), even less moved there, and even less than that sought high-profile jobs like this.

The woman looked at Matthew, and he got the feeling somewhere along the line that one of her parents had been an icicle, or perhaps a glacier. "You are correct." She said shortly. "Minsk was the city I grew up in. However, you might know my brother, and perhaps my sister as well-"

"-Oh my." Matthew muttered suddenly. Alfred told him he had a tendency to clap his hands together when he was surprised, and he supposed he did this now, because he was. The woman had looked oddly familiar ever since he'd laid eyes in her, Matthew found himself remembering perusing through the dog-eared copy of 'The Revised History of Linitania and its Four Kingdoms,' with his father, memorizing the names and faces and deeds of important figures in its long history, but her name and identity hadn't clicked until right then. Yes, the white hair, high cheekbones, delicate features, all were suddenly very familiar. "You're Natalya Arlovskaya, the princess of Clubs, the King of Club's sister. The...um."

Natalya Arlovskaya had a nickname around Spades kingdom, but it wasn't a very nice one. She didn't seem to mind. "The Turncoat Printsessa, I'm aware of my nickname, Ace, thank you. Since you brought that up, I'd like you to know the rumors you've heard of me are quite false. I shall set them to rights before I proceed with my business. I was not mistreated underneath Vanyusha. Not at all. I love my brother, with all my heart. Yet my affection for him was deemed...inappropriate by Club High Court, and they feared that I might distract him from his royal duties to the Héderváry bitch, though as it turns out they needn't worry about a lack of responsibility on my Vanya's part. So I was packed off to Spades Kingdom and given this job, the same I had at Vanya's court, as a favor repaid by the late Chelsea to our Late Katerina. I did not flee from his 'cruel embraces' and I won't suffer accusations of such, my lords." She said all this with a neutral expression, though her voice grew tight near the end.

"Then why don't you tell everyone the truth about the rumors?" Alfred piped up, having stood once again. He watched Natalya quizzically. "Seems to me like they could all be disproved pretty easily."

"I…" For a moment she looked wistful, and very lonely. Alfred made up his mind them to befriend this Kingmaker at the earliest opportunity. "Because I need to. For my own safety." She said, glaring at her black gloves.  
"I don't get it." said Alfred, and truth be told, neither did Matthew.

"You dont get it? Surely you know that the Kingdom of clubs and the Kingdoms of Spades are bitter rivals, some may even say enemies. Everyone has an opinion of Vanya, and their opinions are all wrong. They paint him as a devious, bloodthirsty savage, and they think that his kin share the same ambitions. Even Katya isn't safe from their slander." She gritted her teeth in anger. Truly she must be a force to be reckoned with when she was upset, Alfred made a note of that for later on, and Matthew thought absently that she looked fairly stunning like she was.

"If The Chancellor and Vanushka sent me here as the court wanted, just banished me like I had done anything wrong, then it would raise suspicions. Your Spade citizens would think Vanya was trying to employ a rat within your midst. I would have immediately been branded as a spy, and my head would have been sent back as thanks. So my Vanya needed to be demonized, it needed to look like I was the victim, desperate to escape my brothers evil clutches, so I could be safe here. Despite all that, those who don't trust me call me the 'Turncoat Printsessa.' They believe I betrayed Ivan to come here. They're all wrong. All of them." Her conviction, her love for her brother coated these last few words. Alfred knew very well how that felt and he could imagine the anger she must have felt having to damn her brother with every breath. He stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder.  
"Then we know the truth, and I can promise We'll never called you Turncoat, Printsessa. How about we call you Nat, instead?"

She brushed his hand off gently,but not before patting it. to take the sting out "I do not like nicknames, my Liege. You may call me that if you wish, but I'd prefer Natalya."

"Then maybe Nat will grow on you." He grinned at her, which she didn't return, but the cold look in her eyes softened slightly. Then she shook herself, and was back to business. "Now, for your coronation. You will come with me. Since there are no living kings, and the ex-queen Richard has declined to attend, your coronation with be presided over by myself, the Queenmaker, and the Chancellor. You probably do not know what it is that you must do, that is normal. Everything will be explained. The Ace of Spades will remain here until after you are crowned. Then, he will step forward and be knighted, and the Blade of Spades shall be handed down to him then. Now, are you ready, my King?"

Alfred looked anything but, yet still he nodded, smoothing down invisible wrinkles on his embroidered vest.

"Of course I am."

* * *

Arthur sat in the chair on his half of the waiting room. His fingers thrumming against his thigh betrayed his excitement, otherwise he was the picture of calmness. The Queenmaker bustled around the room in a frenzy of excitement. Today was his first crowning. He had every right to be eager, but it was rather annoying having some ask you if you remembered your handkerchief when you'd shown it to them thrice before. Yes, yes, he had the damn handkerchief and he had the double-breasted shirt, the white undershirt, the pants and the boots. Thank you very much.

"Allister! Enough! Sit down, pray, or I'll lose my bloody mind."

Allister's red head snapped back to scrutinize the Queen he'd been making for five years, the famous Kirkland brows furrowed in what could have been annoyance, or repentance. He opened his mouth, to say something rude probably, but thought better of it and continued his pacing.

"Allister..." Arthur's voice held a warning tone.

"Artie." Allister replied mockingly. Arthur should have known he wouldn't listen to him. He never did, not when they were kids, and certainly not now. "Be quiet, shrimp. I'm thinking."

"A wondrous feat, I'm sure, you really ought to do it more often. Now quit your pacing, Yao would have a stroke if you wore holes in the carpet."

That made Allister laugh, and mercifully, he stopped walking as well. "D'you think I give a toss about your Orient pet? Royalty is rotting your brain, little brother."

Little brother. How one phrase managed to carry such affection and contempt was completely beyond Arthur's comprehension. So he didn't dwell on it. His eldest brother, and the other three, were all puzzles he had no interest in cracking. All cast from some mystery mold that Arthur was never privy to inspect.

"There is nothing else you have to do, so why don't you go see if the wine in the cellar hasn't been completely done away with yet?" Arthur said. He almost wanted to stand up and join Allister in his manic pacing, but decided against it.

All that got was a scoff. "My taste leans to stronger stuff, whiskey and beer."

"Of course it does. Is it time to leave, or no?"

Allister pull the pocketwatch out the uppermost pocket of his double-breasted jacket. The sky blue color always looked slightly ridiculous on him, a fact that gave Arthur no end of amusement, but Allister had no choice in the matter. He looked at the watches face, and fairly went pop-eyed. "Shit! Yes, yes, Its time! Fuck, get up!" He snapped the watch closed, tossed it on the table, (it slid off and fell to the ground with a small clunk), and stood over Arthur, barking orders. Arthur ignored them all. He needed no instructions.

Eventually, or rather in the space of about three seconds, Allister's ceaseless blathering became intolerable, and perhaps it might have been because Arthur's nerves weren't the best at that moment. "Allister, **Enough**! I've known exactly what to do and how to do it on this day since I came to this bloody castle and I certainly do not need your help in this matter so shut your bloody mouth or, brother be damned, I will kick you out of the other nearest window myself!"

Arthur's brother stopped short, mouth agape, green eyes (the Kirkland family legacy) wide, looking like a cow prepped for the slaughterhouse. It might have been funny if Arthur weren't so suddenly irritated, and nervous. Allister quickly regained his composure (the other Kirkland family legacy, their famous tempers). He struggled to hold his tongue, because no doubt the big brother and the general disagreeable nature in him implored him to retaliate verbally, and perhaps physically as well though there wasn't any rational way he would dare strike The Queen that could very well have him executed for doing so, but he must have sensed Arthur was far from kidding, and closed his mouth, a veritable miracle.

Arthur let him stew while he opened the door. The main hall looked barren, the light from the huge windows about his head falling on the cold tiles, and not on the shoulders and heads of any subjects. The two hallways branching off to the other parts of the Castle were empty too. The entrance to the Altar room, directly adjacent to the waiting room, its door was closed, but one could hear the low buzz of voices from behind it. Behind that door was the altar room, and directly besides it was the reception area. The first section of that room was the place of honor. The Linatanian Royalty were there reclining in gilded chairs and sofas, sipping the finest Diamond Wine, attempting civility with one another as they eagerly awaited the newest members of their fold. In the next section, the highest of Spade Nobility, the Barons and Baronesses, the Dukes and Duchesses, the Lord and Ladies, they waited to greet their new rulers, and beyond that, the third section, the largest and longest section closed on three sides only, open to the outdpprz, the clear blue sky, fresh air, and any citizen of Spade Kingdom that wanted to come. That is where the citizens of Spades Kingdom would give a hearty welcome to their new King and Queen.

Arthur could hardly wait to get started, didn't think he'd survive the customary week of balls and banquets, celebrations that would rock the waters of the Linatanian sea for weeks on end.

He walked out to the altar door, knowing Allister would follow. He had to open his half of the door for him, after all. However, Allister stopped at the door and watched Arthur carefully. Whatever he was thinking, it had to have been the utmost of serious topics, for Arthur couldn't recall ever seeing such an expression on his brothers face.

And then it was gone. Allister braced his hands against the heavy wooden door and shoved it in, slipping through the crack it made. Arthur stood outside, waiting for Allister to lead him in, and prayed no one could see how hard his hands were shaking.

* * *

The coronation ceremony was an incredibly big deal. Romulus knew this well, having presided over one of them before, way back when his boys were only babies._ "No, I will not think of them now. I'll see them both in twenty minutes."_

That short while seemed like an eternity now but he had no choice but to suffer through it. He had no more time to dwell on it, for the door clear across the room, the Queens side, was creaking open. The red-haired Queenmaker, the Queen's brother who barely scraped by with a job in Court at all, hurried in. He met Romulus's gaze, asking a silent question._ 'Is everything ready?'_

Romulus smiled and nodded, this one remind him quite a lot of Lovino. Never the 'favored son' as people said it, but full of promise and potential when given the chance.

The Queenmaker nodded back and turned to fetch his brother. Romulus wondered how the little Queen would see this Altar room. Romulus saw a large, very long, dome-roofed hall, with stone steps leading up to the landing he was standing on, and the giant stain-glass window, in the shape and color the Spade symbol of course, behind him. He stood next to the marble slab holding the two symbols of Spade power, the two time-pieces that truly made a King a King and a Queen a Queen. And, he saw the giant velvet divider set up in the middle of the room, running from the doorway to the very first step of the altar. The King and Queen wouldn't see each other face to face until they accepted their suits, their thrones, their title's, said their vows, and claimed each others hands.

Romulus mustered up the biggest smile he was able when the Queen-to-be stepped into view in line behind his brother. He looked well, confident and untroubled, though Romulus knew anxiety, however well concealed, when he saw it. The Queenmaker took his place on the first step of the altar, near the tiny chest containing the Queen's jacket.

The Queen stopped at the very edge of the divider, as was custom. He needed no instructions, it would seem. that was good, it made Romulus's job easier.

The other side of the door, the Kings side, swung open, and the silver-haired Clubs Printsessa stole in. Romulus liked her, she was sensible, quiet, everything her counterpart was not, and at last, the King came in besides her. He was visibly nervous, they all were, having been packed up at eighteen and carted off to a castle, given some strangers hand in marriage and a country to rule to boot. The king had calmed a bit since Romulus last saw him. that was good.

His Kingmaker took her place, and the King his, and Romulus began.

"Gentleman, " He called out, spreading his arms wide. "And Ladies," He gestured to Natalya. "We are gathered here today for a momentous occasion. The crowning, such as it were, of the 37th and 39th, King," He gestured to the King, who squirmed minutely underneath his gaze. "And Queen," the Queen stood straighter underneath Romulus's scrutinizing. "Of Spades. And I say such because We, the Kingdom of Spades, have no crowns and no scepters to bestow upon our Royalty, unlike our fellow kingdoms. We have no jewels, no furs. We have simpler ways, in some respects. We have a Jacket, tailored to each King and Queen, simply made, but richly embroidered with the faith, the tradition, the nobility and the grace and the regality of past and future Kings and Queens. This, this is what we give to you. My king, your name, your house, your lineage, please."

The boy nearly jumped, but contained himself. "Alfred. Alfred Freedom Jones, of the House of Williams-Jones, son of George Williams and Magaskawee Jones." He said, loud and clear. Romulus watched Arthur swallow this nugget of information down, testing it like a plaything. He seemed to like what he heard.

"King Alfred of Spades. Do you accept this Jacket of your forefathers, and the Kings after you, and do you accept the rule that is tied to it? Do you promise with all your heart to be a kind, and just, and fair ruler alongside your Queen?"

"I swear on the lives of my mother, father, and brother. Their lives mean more to me than anything." The boy, no, the King's voice rang with resolve. Romulus found himself grinning out of nowhere. Then he turned to the Queen, who was watching him expectantly with those piercing green eyes. "My Queen?"

"Arthur Cornelius Kirkland, of House Kirkland, son of Victoria and James Kirkland." He said. "I accept the jacket of my forefathers and do so solemnly swear to uphold the legacy of every Queen that has come before me, to set a goal for future Queens to strive for, to be a kind, just ruler alongside my King. I swear on my life, and the lives of my ancestors to never tarnish the title I bear, nor the reputation of my Kingdom. I accept the title of Queen, good sir." There wasn't a trace of hesitation on his part, of course he'd been ready for this day since he was a toddler.

"Then I pronounce you as Royalty, may you wield your power for the good, and only that, of our Kingdom. Kingmaker, Queenmaker, if you please." He waved to them, they turned in sync, opened their chest and withdrew the respective articles of clothing. They then stepped down to their rulers and helped them into their new clothes. Arthur fairly shone in his dark blue jacket, Alfred suddenly looked more nervous than ever in his light blue jacket with the spade decals on the sides.

"Now, Your Majesties. The jacket is but one part of the enormous burden you must bear as our Rulers. as you know, the titles you know bear come with the magic of Spades. My Queen, first, in accordance with tradition and your extensive studies with Morgana herself, a sign that you're truly are blessed by the gods, I give to you her crest, may you bear it with pride."

Romulus turned to the altar, took the tiny jet-black square off of it, and handed it to the queen who affixed it to his jacket.

"Time, your Majesties, is the gift the gods have given you. The most dangerous, yet most lucrative power is what you wield, and in the wrong hands, its power can cause calamity. Are you two ready to wield its power justly, for only the good of Spades kingdom, and yes, even the good of Linatania?"

"We are." They answered, in sync.

"Then I am proud to give to you the symbol, and the conduit of your power, The royal Timepieces. To the Queen, I bestow the Clock of Time."

Romulus turned, took the large circular clock, blessed by the first queen Diana, in hand. It ticked away dutifully. He handed it to this owner who handled it lovingly. He whispered something Romulus couldn't hear, and the clock morphed before his eyes into a more manageable pocketwatch that he slipped into his pocket.

"and to the King, the Eternity Clock." This tiny pocket watch was crafted in the shape of the Spade symbol, imbued with the power (and some say, spirit) of its wild king Jasper, and handed to its rightful owner, who took it gravely, and put it in his breast pocket with the utmost haste.

Romulus raised his arms. "Your Majesties, the right to rule is evidenced in the Marks your bear. If I might see them please." The Queen quickly freed his shoulder of all the garments on it, and the true Mark was visible to all. The king actually blushed, and while he looked like he had something to say, he eventually turned around and lowered his trousers a fraction. His Mark stood out above the white underthings he wore.

"Your coronation is almost complete, your Majesties. Indeed, the last stage is upon us. You are King and Queen, 'and,' your Graces, not 'or'. You must marry to truly come into your power. Alfred Freedom Jones, My King, do you swear to take Arthur Cornelius Kirkland, Your Queen, as your lawful wedded husband, to cherish him above all else, to love him and rule at his side until the end of your days?"

The answer came after a fraction of hesitation. "I do."

Romulus had to only turn before Arthur answered. "And I too, good sir. I accept Alfred's hand in marriage."

Romulus nodded. "Then I pronounce you two wedded and crowned, lawful rulers of Spades Kingdom. congratulations my Lords." He gave a gesture, and the divider fell away, pooling on the floor in a giant heap.

He watched eagerly as the King and Queen took their first look at each other. Arthur handled it very well. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch before he controlled his expression, somewhat. A trained eye could see the curiosity, and the wonder, in those green eyes. The king was markedly less adept at hiding his emotions. Wonder, surprise, excitement, a dash of fear, trepidation, and overall, a growing sense of happiness that manifested itself in the budding smile, as brilliant as the sun, flashed across his face.

The door to the reception room was thrown open at Romulus's command, thought the newly crowned royals were much too busy appraising each other to notice until he spoke. "My King, My Queen, your fellow Royals await, I offer you my heartiest congratulations, and wish you the best of luck." _You will surely need it_, he refrained from saying as the Queen offered his new King his arm, and walked away to present themselves to the rest of Linatania, or the only people there that mattered..

Romulus watched them enter their new lives as he sent for the new Ace and Jack of Spades, and he truly meant what he said. _Good Luck, I hope you two at least make it out of this alive.._

* * *

**_End. Read and Review please, I'd really appreciate it. _**


	3. Old Friends, New Worries

'_'Whoa.'_ Was all the new King of Spades could think. His new Queen, his new husband was….gorgeous? Yes. incredibly much so? yes. But it was different, the feeling he got was different than mere physical attraction. This man, Arthur Kirkland, was, for lack of a better word, electrifying. Those eyes. Green was an understatement. Emeralds hardly did them justice. His nose was perfect, it obviously never had been broken in a sparring match against Sir Williams and his daughter Jenna. His lips were very nice, quite full, for a man at least, and shell-pink. Wispy blonde hair stuck out in every sort of which-way on his head, in a way that was oddly endearing. Somehow Alfred got the feeling at this Arthur had a lot of combs, and all of them had failed him at some point. He was also kinda short, which was indescribably entertaining. Not very short, maybe an inch or two shorter than Alfred himself, and pretty slim, like Matthew, but still short.

He carried himself like royalty already., straight backed, head held high. Alfred didn't do that. Noble-born he was, but he sure didn't act like it, was never required to, until now. Maybe He'd learn a thing or two from this Arthur guy. his new husband… Looks aside, Alfred didn't know this man, wasn't at all sure how they'd get along, but he had high hopes. Alfred was nice guy, everyone said so, and he fancied himself to be a bit of a charmer. The few girlfriends he had all seemed to think he was a real catch, and it was he who broke it off with them, and not the other way around. They were all nice, sweet, but utterly uninteresting. Each and every one of them acted like a doll brought back to life, with nothing to say to him but empty praises and nothing to do but whatever Alfred wanted to do, but this one, Arthur Kirkland, Alfred could see the fire behind his eyes. Dull? Most certainly not. Alfred found himself smiling at his new husband. He hoped it would bring a smile out of Arthur as well, but no such luck for Sir Vargas was saying something, and Arthur broke eye contact first, looking behind him, and then he turned to Alfred again, smiled a very tiny, oddly amused smile, and held his arm out for him. Alfred took it happily. He didn't even notice Matt walk in behind them.

* * *

He was quite the lovely one, that much Arthur had to give him on the spot. Stunning didn't even come close. Hell, he broke Arthur's poised composure from the very second they saw each other. On the other side of the divider, this mystery man had seemed...determined, in a way. Anyone could hear his hesitation, which was completely normal, as well as his conviction, which was a wonderful sign. He sounded strong and young, but appearances, or sounds as it were, could be deceiving. Regardless, Arthur had been determined to bear with whomever was on the other side of that velvet wall even if it killed him. When Romulus gave the order for the curtain to drop, Arthur braced himself for the worst. What he got instead was a tall, horribly attractive, well-built, young man with spectacles, and giant dimples in that sunny smile he adopted when their eyes met. His smile was blinding enough, just about overflowing with vitality, but his eyes, oh his eyes were something special. The color of the seas on a clear day, at noon, ten clicks out so you can see the fish swimming under the boat, and the salty air is all you can smell.

The very second their eyes met, it was also met as though Arthur's mind shut down for a half-second. The only thing that processed was, _"Dear Gods Yes."_ Something electric, a near tangible feeling, zapped through them. Arthur wanted to return the smile, was gripped with the urge to return that sunshine grin, but he didn't. Romulus had opened the door and the buzz of about five or six different accents are jockeying to be heard above one another floated into the room. People were waiting for them, after all. It may have been proper for the King, and not the Queen, to lead his new spouse into the room, but Arthur couldn't find it in him to care. He held his arm out for this god he was given to wed, who took it with a smile equally as bright, and led them both through the door.

* * *

The noise in the reception area came to an abrupt halt when the two newest nobles presented themselves to their fellow royalty. Alfred was doing his best to not let on just how terrified he suddenly was, because he'd been told day in and day out that these Kings and Queens were vicious and bloodthirsty and he felt like a lamb on a sacrificial altar right now. Arthur, though they were all some level of irritating after decades of knowing them, was well please to see his equals all in wait for him. The King and Queen of Clubs, with the Jack practically clinging to his Queen's emerald skirts, were near the wine table to their immediate right. They were the first to introduce themselves, and Alfred was suddenly thankful their father had him at least memorize the traditional colors of each Suit. They were dressed in varying shades of green, from the Kings floor length coat to the Queen's dress. Alfred had to remind himself to smile at them and nearly bowed, and would have if not for Arthur's hold on his arm. Now that they were all Royalty, none had to bow to anyone. The reminders that he wasn't at all ready for this, to go toe to toe with these people, seemed never-ending.

The King stepped forward, handing his glass of Diamond Red off to the Jack, and graced them with a bland smile that made the fierceness in his violet eyes seem a tad disconcerting. "Congratulations, My Lords. How good it is to welcome you to our ranks. I trust we'll become fine friends, you two and I."

For the briefest second silence fell and Alfred realized with a jolt that he had to pick up this conversation somehow and he realized as well that he had no idea what he could possibly say here that would impress this man and his wife who stood beside him staring at them both with her sharp forest green eyes. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, opened his mouth, and Arthur's voice rang out instead of his. "Why, Ivan, aren't we already friends? I've considered you a bosom compatriot since the day we met. Lizzie, you look absolutely ravishing, as always. How are you, my dear? Shall I spirit you away yet, or is your faithful husband still piquing your interest?"

'Lizzie' flashed him a dazzling smile, tucked a stray lock of chestnut colored hair behind her ear and gave Arthur her gloved hand, which he kissed. "Now Arthur, you have a fine spouse before you. I cannot imagine the trouble we all would get from you seducing your fellow Queen right from under my husband's nose." She said lightly.

Arthur chuckled as did 'Lizzie', and even though they had only known each other for about six minutes, Alfred could tell his new spouse was faking it. This whole talk of 'friends' rang of falsitude. Was everything they did a sham?

Arthur gestured to Alfred. "I believe we have someone who needs be acquainted with you two. Alfred, This," He gestured to the King of Clubs. Alfred knew his name, barely, Ivan braginski, the rumored "Red Club." Rumors and gossip never held any interest for him, but something about the hushed, timid tones they used to describe the supposed atrocities he committed, all the while with that bland smile, made him slightly more inclined to listen. Alfred turned his attention to the King, and at once was struck with the oddest feeling about this man who stood before him. A bad feeling, and a very bad feeling. Alfred, he liked to think he was pretty good at reading people. he had to be. You never knew who was planning what, when and where, especially when your brother was supposed to be royalty, after all. Alfred liked to think he knew a bad fellow when he saw one, and it wasn't as though he thought this man was bad, in so literal a sense. The feeling he got wasn't nearly as clear-cut. It told him, "This one has potential, and not in a good way."

"This, dear, is Ivan Marinovich Braginski, King of Clubs. This, Ivan, is Alfred Jones, my new King."

Ivan nodded, "Yes, yes I've heard of you, the brother of the slated son. How the wheels of fortune turned in your favor, you must be so surprised, yet happy as well."

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Alfred's head, which was ridiculous. Yes, Matthew had been a shoo-in for King, and yes, He was Matthew's brother, but somehow between meeting Arthur and meeting this Ivan guy, Alfred had moronically allowed himself to entertain the delusion that he was the one slated for this. That he was King not by a very odd change of fate, but because he was trained for this moment. He was not though, and what's more he hated lying, of any kind, from anyone. He wasn't brought up for any of this, it was the bare-faced truth, so why hide it? He should have been be grateful, that they got this 'secret' out in the open quickly, before it became blatantly apparent that Alfred had no idea whatsoever about how to run a Kingdom. Yet regardless, it still hurt.

Arthur laughed again, more confused than anything. He turned to Alfred, and Alfred had to fight the urge to look away, or run. "What on earth does he mean by that?"

Lizzie cut in then, "Of course you didn't know, dear. You weren't allowed, were you? We'd all been told his brother would be almost certainly be King, but destiny had other things to say to that. You poor dears both, you've got a lot to learn now and then some. Don't you worry a bit though, we're always happy to offer advice if you need it."

She held her hand out to Alfred. "My name is Elizaveta Hedervary, dear. It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm ever fond of the underdogs."

Numbly, He took her hand and pressed it against his lips, praying that he didn't look as shell-shocked as he felt. He didn't dare look at Arthur now. What did Arthur even think about him? Yeah, he was the ideal spouse, wasn't he? When he didn't know how to do anything. He didn't know how to act, or talk, or walk, or rule, or anything that would even interest this posh guy even a little.

Arthur still had Alfred's arm tucked in his, and Alfred couldn't tell if the pressure on it now was, what? A punishment? Was this gentleman as nervous as Alfred felt? Arthur turned them to the next pair of Royalty before they had anything to say anything. All at once tints of red, from cherry to wine to seashell pink, flooded Alfred's vision. Arthur, having previously held himself so tightly, loosened up a bit as he greeted these men. There were two, one reed-slender Orient native, evidenced by the coal-black hair, dark eyes and traditional kimono, and one that had the look of an upper-class Coroni, all sharp angles, bulging muscles, pale blonde hair, and light blue eyes.

The Coroni was the King. The King of Hearts, and looks didn't mean everything but goodness this King looked about as different from his suit as a fish does from a tree. He was a stern one. His face could freeze fire and then some. He didn't smile as he stuck his hand out for Alfred to shake, but one got the feeling he didn't smile much regardless. "Congratulations, Alfred Freedom Jones. I am well pleased to welcome you to the rank of King." He certainly showed it, didn't he. "As am I, my lord." Alfred replied. He didn't remember this man's name. No amount of brain-wracking helped him either. Luckily, his new hubby picked up the slack.

"Ludwig, how nice it is to see you again. Kiku, old sport, how long has it been since we turned up a cuppa with each other, eh? Perhaps, next week?" Arthur said, launching into conversation with the queen. The King's focus shifted from Alfred to the pink jack chattering happily away with a man that could have been his brother a few respectable paces back. In his face, Alfred watched a myriad of emotions, mainly exasperated affection, flit across the stony face of this king. Alfred tucked away their names for later use. So now there were Two suits, two that he'd been introduced, however briefly, to. The only one left was…

His attention wandered, and his eyes went with it, to the far corner of the room. A young girl in a short-sleeved, canary-yellow dress sat primly on one of the chairs, hands folded in her lap, she giggled every so often from the attention of a man in yellow hose, who sported the same short hair cut as the girl. Apparently, his jokes were utterly hilarious.

Behind the seated girl was someone Alfred hadn't seen in a very long time. An involuntary grin spread across his face. Alfred looked back, Arthur was chattering away with the Heart Queen, The King busy observing his Jack, and decided to slip off. He snuck away unnoticed to the group of chairs, and was met halfway by an old friend.

Francis pulled Alfred into a near backbreaking hug, which Alfred returned likewise, and when they pulled away, they inspected each other. Francis looked exactly the same, still wiry, with that same mop of silky blonde hair, and those same laughing blue eyes, and the same tiny hint of a beard. The only difference now was that he was taller, and his clothes, the same numerous shades of yellow, were maybe a tad richer. "Alfred, mon Chere! Comment êtes-vous, mon garçon? Vous avez obtenu si grand, mon Dieu, et beau aussi!"

Alfred nearly blushed. As it stands, he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Merci, merci mon ami. Vous regardez bien, aussi."

Francis's smile only grew. "Vous pouvez toujours parler la langue civilisée! Magnifique, je ne serais pas capable de le supporter si vous avez oublié la langue appropriée."

Alfred frowned playfully. "Civilized tongue, Francis? Really? I see you're still so incredibly pretentious." He said, switching back to English.

"Boo, can I help it if it's true? Now, where is your new Ace? Mon cher Matthieu still hasn't been greeted."

Alfred looked at him from the corner of his eye. Francis knew about them, then. Of course he did. He'd known them for so long, of course he'd know about their odd change of positions. It was beginning to draw eerily similar parallels to that 'Prince and the Pauper' fairytale he'd read when he was a kid. but Francis didn't seem the least bit...troubled, or confused, or disappointed. Francis had always said that Matthew would make a wonderful king, and an even better ally. Was he upset now that he'd been saddled with Alfred, then?

"So, what? You're not...upset, or disappointed?" Alfred asked. Francis looked confused. and then he looked really confused. "Upset? Of what? Did...Did something happen to Matthew?" For a moment, Francis looked like alfred did whenever the prospect of Matthew and danger came up in the same general area as one another, worried to the core.

"I suppose you could say that" Alfred said, pulling the new watch out of his pocket. He held it by the cord, gingerly, as if it could detonate with the slightest provocation. "Isn't he supposed to have this?" Once again, like the coward he suddenly felt like, he couldn't bear to look Francis in the eye, instead turning his gaze on the yellow tights he remembered begging Francis to take off many times when they were younger.. 'tights are for girls." Alfred had said, before being socked in the mouth by the prettiest nobleman's daughter he'd ever seen.

He watched those tights step in front of him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the other one press it's fingertips underneath his chin, forcing it up. The look in Francis's eyes was paternalistic, and Alfred realized belatedly that it usually was. "Alfred, I've had the feeling since the day I met you both that Matthew, by some stretch of fate, would never be king. He simply didn't have the right...the right je ne sais quoi. You, however, have buckets of it. And I simply cannot fathom why you'd think i'd be upset or disappointed, you will be a brilliant King, just like Matthew would have been."

Alfred found that while he could keep the truth, all of it, away from Matthew, right now, after everything that happened to him today, from getting married to getting thrown in front of all these people when he clearly didn't even begin to fit in, to being utterly unprepared for the enormous task in front of him, he had to rant to someone.

"Why are you so certain? Matthew was trained for this! I was trained to fight! and now, They're gonna give him the stupid sword when he has trained with that thing for about ten hours total his entire life, and I just know he's gonna get killed or hurt, or something really bad is gonna happen to him out there because you know how quickly Spades Kingdom runs through captains, or Ace's whatever you call them, I don't care, Francis i can feel it in my gut that He's gonna be in danger everyday for the rest of his life and I don't think either of us can even handle that or maybe it's just me, and then there's me, me who barely knows the names of these people, me who has spent about two hours from when i was able to read to know studying just exactly what it was that Matt's job entailed, much less how to do it, and now I'm in charge of some 5 million people, who will depend on me, for things i dont even know about, and that is horrifying, mind you. I...I'm not ready for this." He finished, quietly.

Francis patted him on the shoulder again. "Not many people are, Mon Cher, You less than most, but you've always had a knack for exceeding people's expectations. No one thought the skinny asthmatic boy with the thickest lenses as this side of Linatania would ever be able to lift his first practice sword, much less wield it with the finesse you do now. Certainly no one thought you'd ever come out alive after tangling with three trained Clubs bandits, especially with nary a scratch on the three of you."

Alfred cracked a grin, "You heard of that?"

"Of course, it's why many of us think you got the Mark in the first place. The gods must have thought you deserved it, and all you have to do it prove them right, and i know you can do that. Oh, look, here comes your new husband." Francis said, a mischievous smirk on his face.

When Alfred looked the new Queen was indeed making his way over to them, green eyes ever so slightly suspicious. Arthur paused at Alfred's side,. "Hello, you two. It's seem i'll not have to introduce you all then."

"Arthur, mon ami, comment es-tu? Qui savait que je voudrais être ami avec vous et votre conjoint avant de vous deux a même rencontré?"

Arthur scowled at him, "You know i never bothered learning that ridiculous language of yours, Francis, I don't know why you insist-"  
"Wait a second." Alfred cut in. "I, I'm sorry, My Queen. Francis, what do you mean you knew us before we met? You know Arthur?"

It took Arthur a mere fraction of a second to process this new information. "So that's why you were acting so damn secretive today? You shifty bas...you're just full of secrets today, aren't you friend?" Arthur said mildly, holding his arms across his chest.

"What are you getting mad at me for? You said yourself that 'Tradition states that you're not supposed to know the identity of your new spouse, blah, blah blah," Francs retorted.

"Well, if you know him so damn well apparently before I did then you could at least tell me something." He turned to his new King, "How long have you known him?"

"Since I was little."

Arthur stared at him, and then at Francis, who was trying not to smile, and eventually grinned back. "Well gee, old friend, you just know everyone don't you?"

"It pays to be friendly, mon ami."

"I'm certain it does."

A quiet little voice sounded from Francis' side. "My Lord?" The Reinette Liliana Zwingli stood next to her husband, her tiny hands clasped behind her back, her blue-green eyes surveying all before her. She smiled at Alfred and dropped into a perfect curtsy. "Welcome, my Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you, and it is an equal pleasure to see you again, my fellow Queen."

Alfred bowed to her, for he felt already that she deserved every courtesy, as did Arthur, who probably felt the same way. "My lady, believe me the pleasure is all mine." He said and this time, Alfred could tell he actually meant it.

Francis laughed and took her hand in his. "And here she is, the sweetest maiden in Linatania, who made me the luckiest husband. And if that weren't enough, she has a stalwart keeper." Francis gestured behind him, and the infamous Yellow Jack materialized at his Queen's, and sister's, side. No one expected the Queen's Mark to appear on the infant daughter of one of Diamond Kingdom's Noble families, but when the Jack's Mark appeared on her extremely protective older brother a week later, everyone knew that this was simply fate.

The Jack of Diamonds, Vash Zwingli, was known for the dedication he took to his beloved little sister's safety. Rumor has it that the first time the fiancée's met, Francis went to kiss her hand from the get-go and was met with a fist to the face, and the fleeing back of his bride to be, as her brother led her out of the room.

"Stalwart indeed, Francis. He needs to be after all. Your reputation precedes you."

Francis waved his hand dismissively. "I do not prey on children."

"I hope that you do not, my lord. Else we'd need a new King for Diamond Kingdom." Lili said mildly. Francis laughed, and pressed his hand against his heart dramatically, "To hear these words from the mouth of my own Queen!"

Alfred laughed, and had the pleasure of hearing Arthur laugh for the first time. He had a very nice laugh, quiet but lively. It was quite captivating, and Alfred found himself staring at his Queen. It wasn't until Arthur opened his eyes and met Alfred's that the King realized that he'd been staring, and he flushed bright red and turned away. Had he continued watching his Queen, he would have seen Arthur do the exact same thing, and while Diamond Kingdom was not known as kingdom focused on love, its rulers were quite adept at recognizing the signs, and the King of Diamond watched this encounter avidly. He shared a look with his own Queen, who smiled knowingly back at him.

Alfred was now determinedly not looking in his Queen's direction, at least until his cheeks cooled down, and so saw the moment the new Ace of Spades walked through the door. "MATT!" Alfred called out, attracting the attention of his twin brother.

Matthew saw his brother, and then Francis, and his eyes lit up. He walked briskly over to the group, and bowed to Francis with a wide smile on his face. "My lord."

Francis disregarded all proper etiquette when he pulled Matthew into much the same hug as his brother. "Mon Cher, you've gotten big as well! Mon dieu, maybe I'm getting older."

Arthur snorted, "Maybe?" To which Francis had a few rude very words to say to that remark. Alfred and Matthew snickered behind their palms, while Arthur demanded to know exactly what was said, and the Jack refused to translate for his little Reinette.

The King of Diamonds and Queen of Spades began bickering, apparently over how old Francis was and whether or not that was old, and Alfred took the time to look his brother over. He looked much the same, except for the sword strapped to his hip. "Show me." Alfred nudged his brother with his elbow, and pointed to the new sword. Matthew unsheathed it and handed over to his brother who took it almost reverently. It was a lovely sword, with a slim blade that seemed to ripple in rainbow colors in the light, a ornate cross-guard shaped like a spade, and a handle with grooves built in for fingers. Alfred spun the sword in his hand. "Very nice Matt, perfectly balanced, lightweight, which is good for you. You'll need a heavier one for the bigger, heavier armored brutes, or maybe you won't." Alfred ran his finger very lightly along the edge, and grinned when blood welled up immediately. "No you won't, this thing is incredibly sharp. Good. Here." He handed it back to Matthew, who sheathed it with an amused look on his face.

"What?"

"I don't know why you look so comfortable with deadly steel in your hands." Matthew said quietly.

Alfred had no reply to that. Having a sword in his hand again, the relief felt when a piece of steel like that was in his grasp, reminded him that he would have to procure some swords of his own very soon. "We'll need to start soon.""

Matthew sighed. "Alfred, I'm sure there are people whose job it is to teach me what i am supposed to do."  
"Yes, there is. I am one of those people. I was training for this two weeks ago, Matt, and besides, no one else knows how you fight like I do. I'm gonna teach you how to fight, and how to kill, and there isn't a damned thing you can do about it, ok?"

"Ok."

"Ok!" But it wasn't ok. Matthew was pouting. It was subtle, emotions always were with him, but Alfred could read his little brother like a favorite book and what he read was reluctance, along with the feeling at Alfred was babying him, still.

"I'm not trying to smother you, moron. I'm trying to keep your scrawny butt up above the dirt. You favor your right side yet you can wield a sword almost as well in your left, you have a tendency to fiddle with your glasses, even mid-fight. Your blocking is almost always just a fraction of a second to early, giving the enemy time to counter, if they're quick enough. You prefer stealth, yet you drag your feet a little too much. Lastly, your blows lack sufficient strength, which is normal, considering you haven't needed to practice. Oh, and one other thing, you are utterly reluctant to deliver a killing blow, be it human or not. That, still, is normal but damn it Matt if it's you or the other guy, i'm gonna make damn sure you can at least make it you, alright? Mom would skin me alive if I let anything happen to you. Hell, I'd _make_ Mom skin me alive if I let anything happen to you. so buck up, brother, and keep that marvelous sword of yours sharp, because you're gonna be using it a lot."

Matthew didn't say anything, he didn't have to, the surprised look on his face said a whole lot. Alfred threw his arm around his little brothers shoulders, pulling him into a hug turned headlock. "You're not dying on my watch, nerd."

Matthew tried, (tried) extricating himself from Alfred's grasp and failed, and retaliated by batting at his brother's head and chest with his fists, but it made no matter whether he did or did not, because Alfred didn't let go..

Francis and Arthur ceased arguing to watch Alfred harass his little brother, and Lili leaned towards her brother and said, "I'm almost glad you never did that to me, although it does seem rather affectionate."

Arthur had barely noticed the presence of the new Ace before, but now that his new husband had made his presence know, Arthur was rather curious to see this new member of the Spades High court. From what he could see, the two didn't look very much alike, but when Alfred relinquished his hold on his brother's head, laughing and teasing by turns, Arthur saw he was quite mistaken. The Ace was a near exact copy of his brother, the only difference being his hair was fairer and just a smidgen longer, and his eyes were violet. He was of equal height, but completely different temperament. While Alfred overflowed with vitality, even from a few feet away, this one radiated seriousness, a balanced act between these two.

Arthur studied this new Ace for a few seconds before the Ace realized he was being watched. He turned to the queen and went to his knee. "Forgive me, My Queen. I should have introduced myself immediately."

"It's, its quite alright."_ 'So this is the one that would have been my husband? Well, he wouldn't have been so bad. He's obviously polite, well-mannered. But...I think I rather would have his brother. What an odd stretch of luck this was then, that his brother got the Mark, instead. I wonder why Alfred looked so shocked when Lizzie and Ivan mentioned it. Was it possible he didn't think they'd know? did he not want me to know? and why not? Did he think I'd be...what, disappointed? I wonder if i should ask after it."_ "Your name, sir?"

"Matthew Alexander Williams, My Queen."

Alfred beamed down on his brother for no other reason than that he was standing besides him, just being there,, obviously quite fond of him. It made Arthur feel a little wistful. He and his brother weren't ever quite so close, nor so open with their affections. It was obvious that his new king treasured his brother above all else. Maybe, Arthur could join him there one day.

"Your majesties?" came a voice from behind them. When they turned, Sir Romulus stood at the closed door, leading to the second reception area. "It is time for you to meet your new officials, If you'd follow me."

None of these people were strangers to Arthur, and Alfred had heard of, or met at least a handful of them, do the introductions and explanations went fairly quickly. The second the third door opened, they were hit flat in the face with a booming applause. Filling the tiny room, and spilling out into the streets were thousands upon thousands of Spade citizens outfitted in blue and purple, shouting out for their new rulers. "ALFRED, ALFRED, ALFRED KING OF SPADES."

"DEAR QUEEN ARTHUR, WE LOVE YOU SO!"

"ALL HAIL THE KING AND QUEEN, ALL HAIL THE KING AND QUEEN OF SPADES!" Was the chorus they listened to as they walked along throng of men and women, some crying, some reaching out to touch their hair, skin and clothes. Alfred smiled to everyone he saw, shook as many hands as he was able, even managed to call many citizens out by name. Arthur followed in his King's example, thought he couldn't pick any of these people in the crowd out. Matthew walked behind them both, and sometime between when they left Spades Castle, and when they reached the carriage that would bear them to the first and noblest house in Spades Kingdom, ending with the houses and families of the King and Queen themselves, and begin their week of celebrations, had caught a blue rose, a Spades kingdom specialty. Alfred teased him mercilessly as they all climbed inside the carriage, and eventually Matthew was as red as the upholstery inside.

Arthur watched them banter back and forth with a queer sort of detachment. His heart was pounding so loud he couldn't focus on anything else. There was to be a week decided to celebrating what was hoped to be a long and prosperous reign for them both, and after that, after that the real work would begin. It was an enormous amount to take in. He was married now, married! to a complete, yet incredibly charming, attractive stranger. He was a Queen. It was all overwhelming.

However, as the carriage began to roll away from Spades Castle, Arthur found himself smiling out the window. He had just been given the biggest challenge of his life. Ruling alongside a stranger, and ruling well. A challenge that could easily turn against his favor. It was a damn good thing he loved a good challenge.

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_read and review, pretty, pretty please._


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